Choices, Thank You
by ZenZen
Summary: Draco is a Death Eater. He must make choices. Perhaps they will change his life, perhaps they won't. This is his first option.


**Thank You**

Darkness was an option. Though, Draco figured, to be a minion of the Dark Lord, darkness was more of a necessity. It came with the whole package, he supposed, secretly fingering the newly scorched Dark Mark on his forearm and grimaced in pain; death, pain, torture, darkness and yadda, yadda, yadda.

In the alleyway that he and Theodore Nott stood, there was definitely no lack of darkness. It was a particular dodgy part of Muggle London, having a reputation of mysterious but bizarre cases of murder, where the victim would have no visible signs of wounds on their body, but rather, seemingly to have been _scared_ to death. The police, of course, were constantly assuring the residents that the murders were 'investigations in progress', but everyone knew that these would remain unsolved mysteries, maybe forever.

Among Death Eaters, however, the murderers were no secret. In fact, a few of them were quite well known. Lucius Malfoy, for example. Notorious killer, known for and loyalty to the Dark Lord his cruelty to others, has tortured and killed far more than many of the other Death Eaters added together, and that was just in this part of London.

It was right there is the alley, where all Malfoys would celebrate their initiations to various dark circles by killing a Muggle. Draco's uncles, aunts, cousins, mother and father had all taken lives in that particular alley; it was like tradition, almost a Malfoy family 'legacy'.

Draco snorted out loud, drawing a stare from Nott. 'Legacy' indeed. It was nothing to be proud of, killing helpless Muggles. He'd like to have proper duels to determine whether he lives or dies. This way of sneaking up to them and giving a blow behind their backs was dishonourable, though his father told him it was that kind of thinking that would get him killed.

The more Draco thought about it, the more he was convinced that Muggles weren't as bad and filthy as his father made them out to be, if they were clever enough to invent someone like the television. Draco liked to watch television; he finds it highly entertaining. So far as the TV sits in his room, it has done nothing wrong. At least, not until his father had somehow managed to find out about its origins and had deduced it into a burning heap on his cold bedroom floor.

Draco scowled as he thought of his destroyed television set. He had missed the season finale of a show he quite enjoyed. Perhaps it is time to visit the 'video stores' he has heard so much about.

But right now? He had some 'traditions' to carry on.

Theodore Nott tapped his foot impatiently. He had been initiated last February, on his birthday, and according to him, the Dark Lord was most pleased of his display of loyalty.

A drunk staggered past the alley singing a song in a foreign language. Nott looked at Draco expectantly, raising an eyebrow. Draco just shrugged; apparently that wasn't the reaction Nott was looking for.

"You're not going to do this one, then?" Nott asked, drawing out his own wand.

"No," Draco stopped his hand as he was about to utter a spell, and waited until the drunk had staggered out of sight before letting go. "He is not worthy."

Nott spat on the ground and swore, slipping his wand back to the folds of his robe, furious. "The Dark Lord said 'tonight', Malfoy, you are to show your loyalty to him _tonight._ Prove yourself."

Draco laughed. "I will 'prove' myself when the time comes. There is nothing honourable about killing defenceless Muggles. They'll dirty my hand, if anything."

"You are too afraid," Nott accused.

"That's ridiculous!" Draco snapped back, "Malfoys have no fear."

Nott sensed that he had hit a nerve, and smirked gloatingly. "Admit it, Malfoy, you're dead scared," he taunted, "you're too afraid and you're trying to hide behind some lame excuse of Muggles being 'not worthy'. Truth is, Malfoy, you're the one who's not worthy. I don't know what the dark lord sees in you. 'Greatness', indeed."

Draco tried to stop his anger from surfacing. "Don't tempt me, Nott…"

"To do what? Curse me? You don't dare."

"Nott, I'm warning you-"

"Face it, Malfoy. You're a coward, that's all you'll ever be; a disloyal, untrustworthy son of a bitch who'll never amount to anything."

Draco felt something snap inside him. "You leave my mother out of this." He said through gritted teeth, whipping out his wand.

"Otherwise you'll what? Poke me with that stick in your hand? Hah-"

Draco concentrated. "_Crucio!_"

"Argh!" With a yell, Nott was thrown off his feet and smashed against a wall. He curled into a foetal position and started to whimper piteously.

"Apologise!" Draco snarled, his anger inputted more to the spell, causing the other boy to yell in pain. "Apologise!" Draco repeated.

Before either of them said anything else, there was a scream from the end of the alley. Draco looked up to see Hermione standing besides a flight of stairs, terrified, staring wide-eyed at Nott's shivering frame and the wand in Draco's hand.

"Granger." Draco stalled. _Run, Granger, run and pretend you saw nothing, and I'll pretend I didn't see you_, he willed Hermione to go away; he didn't want anyone to see this, not because it was incriminating, but because he knew he would have to kill her afterwards if she did not go _now_.

Draco raised his wand and shot a streak of orange light to Hermione's left, just for show. It seemed to jolt Hermione. With one last horrified glance at Nott, she ran past Draco, nearly knocking him over. 

Just when she'd nearly reached the safety of the streetlights, however, several Death Eaters have already Apparated in front of her, forming a semi circle and blocking her way.

"No!" 

Draco flinched mentally as all eyes turned to look at him, but on the surface he tried to look as calm and cool as he possibly could. He did, after all, have an appearance to keep up.

"No one disobeys orders," the leader of the Death Eaters stepped forward and threw back her hood, revealing a sunken, but tanned face. Tamara Tetley, Draco recognised.

"I take orders from no one."

Draco also took a step forward and grabbed one of Hermione's arm. "Cooperate," he hissed quietly into her ear, so that it looked like he was kissing her cheek.

"She's mine," he put an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her close, just so that she would stay upright; her knees seemed to have given away.

"Your's?" Tetley echoed.

"Mine."

"This Mudblood?"

"Yes."

"Your father will not approve."

"I do not need his approval."

"Is that so?" Tetley muttered with narrowed eyes.

Draco took Hermione's arm. "We'll be going then, if you don't mind."

The hooded Death Eaters simultaneously stepped back, clearing a path for the two as they walked past, Hermione seemingly in shock.

"Get a grip on yourself, woman," Draco steered Hermione around, avoiding Tetley as they passed her. 

"We could help," the woman suggested, leaning against the wall, her face in shadows, with only her Cheshire cat grin visible.

"Oh yes, you're more than welcome to help," Draco said dryly, "and after that everyone's invited to a mass orgy at the Manor. Bring your tiger skin bikinis, there's going to be a hot tub."

Tetley's grin vanished. "Bastard," she muttered, and apparated with a 'pop'.

"Well, are you guys coming to the party, or what?" Draco asked the remaining Death Eaters, who looked at each other and apparated at the same time.

With one last glance back at Nott, Draco led Hermione to the nearest bench, where she collapsed in shock. 

"Granger," Draco waved his hand around in front of her face, "Granger? Can you hear me?"

It seemed like ages before Hermione exhaled and blinked. "My goodness. Did what I think happened, happen?"

"Yeah. Saved your life, I did."

Hermione looked up. Draco flashed a grin. Hermione raised her hand and slapped him on the side of his face.

"Ow!" Draco covered the left side of his face with his hand. "Granger, what was that for? I save you life and this is how you repay me? Bloody Mu- muggle."

"Mosquito," Hermione said curtly.

"There are no bloody mosquitoes in winter! It's bloody freezing!"

Hermione just shrugged.

"Women," Draco muttered darkly, and sat down as far from Hermione's end of the bench as possible. Why he wasn't able to call her 'Mudblood' as he always have, he didn't know. But it might've had something to do with risking his own life to save hers. Damn. That complicates matters.

"So, uh, what are you doing here?" he asked, uncomfortable with the awkward silence that stretched out before them.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"What am I doing here?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco pondered. Truth or lie? Truth, he decided. What has he got to lose anyway?

"Death Eater initiation."

Hermione gave him a look.

Draco pulled up his sleeves and showed her the mark.

Hermione grimaced. "Did it hurt?" she asked.

"Hurt like hell."

"Oh."

She was silent after that, so Draco sneaked a look at her, and caught her sneaking a look at him. They both blushed and turned away.

Hermione spoke up first. "So. Er. I probably have to go home now."

Draco felt somewhat flustered; what was he supposed to do now? Offer to take her home?

"-But you don't have to come with me," Hermione added hastily, just as he was about to ask.

"No? Oh. Of course not."

Hermione stood up and turned to go. "I'll see you back at school in a month, then."

"Yeah."

"Bye."

"Bye." Draco waved and turned to go in the other direction.

"And… Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

~ End 

Disclaimer: If my name is not JKR, then I own nothing. My name is ZenZen, therefore, my name is not JKR, therefore I own nothing.

A/N: Stick around! Part 2's coming soon!

Note: it doesn't really matter which part your read first, because they have the same storyline, just drastically different endings. No chronological order here, I tend to think of this part as #1 because I wrote it before the second one.


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